


An Intermission

by audioanon



Series: Rhythm [6]
Category: Kill la Kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:46:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audioanon/pseuds/audioanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm so sorry, really. I just, I had too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Intermission

First off, I want to start by saying this has nothing to do with the actual story. If you're just jumping in here, go back. Like, way back, to the beginning. Then this'll make a lot more sense. The plot does not progress, and you're not hearing from Ryuko—you're hearing straight from me. Me, as in, the author, audioanon. Why hello there! Save for this introduction, nothing will be given away about the story either. So, here's a bone for you, if you wanna skip this: I'm sorry, I'm going through kinda the opposite of a burnout, as I just finished my sophomore year of college and am now left with nothing to do beside work, and because I'm no longer caught up in the craziness that has been racketing inside my brain, I just can't seem to gather up the motivation to get this next section out in a timely manner. It's started, I know exactly what gonna happen (kinda) and just need to sit the fuck down and  _actually write it._ Ya know, the fucking hard part. I'm not quitting, not at all, but realize that I am a **person** , and I'm doing my best here, being thrown into this craziness and just  _going and going and going_ at full speed here. So, in the middle of my break (which will come to pass, I swear) (except for the fact that I broke my thumb today, so this might take even longer than I ever thought possible), imma take the time to get up on my soapbox and blab, doing what I'm best at here. As in, blabbing. Apparently I'm talented in this department, so I've been told. Let the blabbering begin.

Ok, ok, I know exactly what you're thinking—hey _asshole_ , shut the fuck up, I thought this was an actual update, this is as bad as a  _compilation episode,_ I'm here for the goddamn story, not your stupid fucking yammering. And hey, I get it. This is _annoying_. But you know what? This is my goddamn story, goddammit, and imma do as I please, not because of some higher existential reason, but because I FUCKING WANT TO. And there is nothing you can do to change my goddamn mind. If you like my story (and I'll assume you do, cause if you're reading this, that means you've stuck through five chapters, and by this point you should have figured out if this is your cup of tea), then hopefully me taking the time to write this little intermission won't put a giant piece of shit in your tea. Sorry, but this is important to me, and I'm gonna see it though. Before I get too caught up in myself and off-base here, I'd once again like to reiterate that I AM A PERSON, A REAL PERSON. I do real-person things. I see when you read my stuff, when you like my stuff, when you comment on my stuff. Me and my stuff, we like this shit. We smile and make stupid faces in public at that shit. What we do not like, however, is you leaving giant pieces of shit in OUR tea, cause I'll be honest, writing this story has meant so so much to me. Like, more than you people probably realize. I'm not a cool cat, I react to this, and the giddy-glee I get from you, the reader, reading my story, is unreal. So, as you can probably imagine, some of you might hate me for this, because of me and my twatty nature. But, I don't care. Except for, sometimes I _do_ care what you think, so please be mindful of that before you express your hate. I'd like to think I'm above that, but, your hate can still get to me. So, please, even though I'm an adult and should reasonably be able to handle that, be nice. Don't be a jerkoff. 

Now that I'm reasonably off topic, lets get back to the actual point of this intermission, because, I promise, there is a method to my madness. I didn't write this story because it was fun, I didn't write this story to express my love for kill la kill (I do love kill la kill, but still, not why I wrote it), nor my sadness at the fact that it is over, I didn't write this story because I love shipping, I didn't write this story because... To be honest I could go on, but really, _I don't know why I wrote it_. As surrealism has taught me, the bizarre that we dismiss ought to be integrated into our reality, and I did just that. I took my bizarre thoughts, thoughts I never thought I would act on, and I verbalized it. I wrote this. I will not dismiss this compulsion, I will follow it through. All the way to the end. Who knows, maybe I wrote this for this intermission, but that doesn't seem to quite fit either, considering that I considered not including it. I can psychoanalyze all I want, and I don't think I'll arrive at the answer. 

Anyways, I'm sure you think a lot of things about me. Personally, when I read a story, I like to imagine the kind of person who wrote it. Perhaps that's just me, but I don't believe I'm singularly alone in any thought I've ever had, so probably some of you think about that kind of shit too. Or maybe not, who knows, I'm just making assumptions here. But, after reading thus far, you probably are thinking things about me. How could you not, reading something solely in my voice, not imagine what kind of person I am? Alas, you still don't know much about me, so here is a quick recap, similar to what you'd find out if you meet me on the street or something: Hi, my name is Allie, I'm twenty years old, I'm a student at CU Boulder, I love music, skiing, sociology, and being dumber than a box of rocks on too many occasions (I don't mean that last one, it's just that I come off that way on accident so often cause I'm such a dork that I figured I'd include it anyways). I think I'm funny. Still can't picture me? Well then, here is a picture of me, in what I thought was hilarious but _apparently none of my followers agreed_ : http://snarfaty.tumblr.com/post/84190279726/ive-been-using-this-shampoo-for-several-months. (Go on, take a minute to look. I'll wait)

There, that's me. Not what you imagined? I thought as much. Or maybe that's exactly what you imagined, dumb joke and all. But I doubt it. Maybe I'm assuming again, but, if I compare myself to every person I've ever met that is as obsessed with anime as I am (not that I know that many people to begin with), and, well, there are some major disparities. I'm not like a lot of them. I feel like I was never meant to be as interesting or cool as I seem, but really it's probably that I was meant to be awesome and then life took me down a few pegs. I'm not just saying that out of inflated ego (I was actually told I was cool once, I swear), as I said before, there are methods to my madness. But, alas, I digress.

Point is, you now (kinda) know me. And you know I wrote a story. And, I'm sorry to say, this story isn't exactly what you think it is. You think you've been reading a literary spawn that crawled out from the deep, twisted chasms of my brain, that I made the whole thing up for the sake of entertainment. But, well... I didn't. I didn't make it up. It's **_real_** , it's _**my everyday reality**_ , and I'm not talking about the stellar stuff, I'm talking about the not-so-stellar stuff. Like, let's get serious here, the seriously serious stuff. That scene that I wrote, where Ryuko confesses to Nonon about her past? So, so much of that is _my past_ , my reality, that it must be addressed. 

The description I give of Ryuko and Satsuki being molested by their mom? That's the most in-depth description I've ever given, like, _anyone_ , of when my sister and I were molested (not by our mother, mind you). I haven't even told some of my closest friends that much of what went down. And that dream that Satsuki has? The stress nightmare where she watches the dad try and bring his kid back to life by electrocuting her? That's a verbatim stress nightmare my sister had. She still gets them sometimes. And Ryuko's reactions to sex? That's me, in a nutshell. It's a serious problem. I can't tell you how many times I've _sucked dick_ to get out of a guy trying to touch me or fuck me. I hate that, I hate that I can't just be like everyone else, and be ok with the frickle-frack. But I can't. And for some reason, _I published all that_. It's online forever. And there is something incredibly freeing about it, about me disclosing this information. That's really what this intermission is. A time for _my_ confession, a time to fess up to you that this is not a fiction, it's real. And there are even more parallels that I'm not gonna take the time to mention, but, still they're there. Just clarifying. (And if you're really interested, ask me about it. I swear I'm nice too)

And, finally, the premise of this story. So, Ryuko, she likes this girl in her Dada class, she can't stop thinking about her, and she doesn't know what to do, how to act, cause she's never crushed on a girl before. The girl in _my_ Dada class, that _I_ have been crushing on, that's where the whole idea for this story came from. And this story, this stupid story that society says _doesn't matter_ , that everyone says _doesn't matter_ , finally gave me the courage to come to terms with liking her, with liking chicks, and _I talked to her, I actually talked to her_ , I took initiative and I did it, and this story plays a huge part in all that. And there could be a real something there, something really actually _real_. That's the best part. 

So, now I'll shut my big fat mouth and finish up here. The response I got to my story has been unreal, out of this world, totally banana-sandwich. I seriously thought that no one in their right mind would ever give five shits about anything I wrote, let alone like it and promote it. I can't even begin to process that phenomena. Alas, what I mean to say is this: THANK YOU, THANK YOU THANK YOU, for you, the reader, you made all this worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna talk to me, get in touch with me, ask me things, scream at me for being a jackass? Go for it, my tumblr is http://snarfaty.tumblr.com/


End file.
